


The Trouser Chronicles

by jeeno2



Series: Short Stories From the Vortex [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Awkward Boners, Crack, Diary/Journal, Epsiode Fix-it: s02e13 Doomsday, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-12 14:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4483616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/pseuds/jeeno2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of the Tenth Doctor -- from the perspective of his brown pinstriped trousers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It begins.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Idlebrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idlebrain/gifts).



> A few months ago I wrote a series of journal entries on tumblr from the point of view of Ten's trousers. And now I'm posting them here. This is 100% pure crack if that wasn't already obvious. ;)

**Trouser Log, Day 1** :

Well, today has certainly been a series of unexpected adventures!  

After spending the better part of two decades gathering dust alongside the other slacks, pants, and trousers in the TARDIS’ wardrobe room, who should appear before me but the Doctor, in his latest incarnation, wearing stripy pyjamas and a dressing gown and looking me over with an appraising eye.

Thirty minutes and a few nips and tucks by the TARDIS later, and here I am:  part of a snappy pinstriped ensemble (if I do say so myself!) and prouder than an overlong striped scarf to be here.

I’m going to try and keep a log of my adventures with this new Doctor.  Who knows how long my moment in the sun, so to speak, will last – and I want to capture every moment of it.

Oops – I better go. We’re off to Christmas dinner with Rose (the girl who travels with the Doctor) and her mum.  By the way the Doctor keeps bouncing on the balls of his feet and such it’s clear he’s  _very_ anxious to be off!  Back with more soon, and happy Christmas.

* * *

 

 **Trouser Log, Day 10** :

Less than two weeks in and I can already tell that things are going brilliantly with this new Doctor.

More to the point: that my being part of his wardrobe is going brilliantly.

Or at the very least, Rose Tyler likes me a whole lot.  She looks at me  _all the time!_   It’s so flattering.  Usually it’s when the Doctor is paying attention to something else, like the wiring under the TARDIS console.  Or when his back is to her.  Sometimes, though, she also stares at me for quite a long time when the Doctor sits cross-legged directly in front of her.  

For some reason she seems to have a special affinity for the part of me that’s closest to the Doctor’s belt buckle in the front and the part that covers his bum in the back.

Other women seem to like looking at me in the same way but none so much as Rose.  I won’t lie to you – I’m just chuffed about all this attention.  It was a very lonely twenty years in that wardrobe room.

* * *

 

**Trouser Log:  Day 15**

Today was a very interesting day.  

Went to 19th century England with the Doctor and Rose and met the Queen.  The Doctor used a terrible, incredibly fake Scottish accent for a bit.  It would have made me cringe, really (if trousers could cringe).  

Later on there was also a werewolf, which was a bit exciting.

Most noteworthy to me, however, was something that happened roughly halfway through the adventure.  Shortly after arriving at the castle, when the Doctor and Rose were messing about in the library, I experienced something… most unusual.  

Normally, the Doctor needs to cinch me round the waist with a belt fifteen times (or so it seems) in order for me to stay upright, since he’s such a skinny bloke.  But today, right in the middle of everything with the werewolf, when he and Rose Tyler were trying to figure a way out of the situation, things got very… well.  Tight, for me.  I can’t think of any other way to describe it.  I’m always a bit pinched at his bum, but this time I was also…  _tight_  right below the belt buckle as well.  In the front.  

You know where I’m talking about.

Anyway – this has happened to me once or twice before (once, briefly, during Christmas dinner at the Tylers’; and again when we visited that hospital on New Earth).  And it's… well.  It’s an incredibly difficult sensation to describe, but suffice to say I don’t like it when it happens.   I don’t like it at all.

And although as a pair of trousers I am not privy to the Doctor’s innermost thoughts, I can somehow sense that he doesn’t care for it when it happens, either.

Maybe I should ask the leather jacket if anything like this ever happened to it during its time with the Doctor.  Yes.  I’ll do that tonight when we get back to the TARDIS.

* * *

 

**Trouser Log:  Day 16**

Note to self:  As it happens, the leather jacket is  _not_  a useful source of information.  

It’s also a bit of a jerk.  

As planned, I asked it if anything like what I experienced yesterday had ever happened to him when he was with the Doctor.  And although I was quite polite when I asked him it didn’t say anything at all in response.  Just flipped up his collar and laughed at me.  (As much as an inanimate leather jacket can laugh.  I guess you could say it was a bit more of a fabric-flapping than an actual laugh.  But no matter – the intent was crystal clear.)

I could try talking to the scarf, I suppose – but he’s in a different part of the TARDIS, I think.  I haven’t seen him in ages anyway.

Looks like I’m on my own here in trying to figure out what happened to the Doctor and how I can stop it from happening again.


	2. It continues.

**Trouser Log, Day 40** :

I’ve had a monster of a day.

Somehow – the Doctor still isn’t certain exactly how, but he’s working on it – the TARDIS slipped out of the vortex and into a parallel universe.  At first it was really quite interesting, walking around in a world that looks like ours but isn’t.  Seeing zeppelins in the sky and all that.

But then the Doctor and Rose decided to attend a fancy dress party.  And  _then_  the Doctor decided his regular suit of clothes wasn’t posh enough for where they were going.

The next thing I knew, he was hanging me up in his closet next to his blazer and tie (and that insufferable leather jacket) and putting on a tuxedo.

And then, my entire world collapsed around me...

\------- 

Before I continue, I should back up a minute and provide some backstory.  

Most days, the Doctor spends a good ten minutes – sometimes fifteen – before breakfast staring at me in the mirror.  He’ll turn this way and that, making sure I look good, and examining me from all angles.  (Including from the back.  _Especially_  from the back, actually.  Which I find more than a little odd, given that he can’t see that part of me, ever.  But I’ve long since stopped trying to make sense of his actions, this Doctor.)

Anyway, the reason I bring all this up is our little morning ritual did not take place today.  Oh no. Today, I had to just hang there in the closet and watch, utterly humiliated right beside the leather jacket, as the Doctor preened like a peacock in front of his mirror in a pair of trousers that  _were not me_.  He kept twisting at odd angles so he could look at his backside, muttering strange things to himself like:  “Do I look foxy in this getup?” and “Will she fancy my bum in this?”  

The very nerve of that man.  After everything we’ve been through together.  

I don’t know whether I should laugh or cry.

The Doctor, Rose, and Mickey have been gone for hours.  I have no idea what they’re getting up to or when they’ll be home.  All I know is I’ve never been more miserable than I am in this moment.

* * *

 

 **Trouser Log, Day 40 (part 2)** :

They all just got back to the TARDIS.  And – yes, okay, all right, I’m a big enough pair of trousers to admit that the tuxedo had an even worse evening than I did.  

To be quite honest, it sounds like their night was horrible. There were metal monsters, people dying, and a lot of screaming.  There was running, yes – and, ok, I do normally love the running.  But it all sounded like a very dire situation indeed and I’m actually quite glad I missed it.

After listening to his story, I casually asked the tuxedo trousers if he’d noticed any unusual… tightness, below the Doctor’s belt, tonight. The leather jacket has continued to be of no use to me in solving this mystery and the scarf just raised its fringe at me when I bumped into him the other day.

“Yes,” the trousers said with a sigh.  (I think it was a sigh, anyway.)  “Yeah, things were definitely tight for a bit.”

When I pressed him for more, he just shrugged and mumbled something about Rose Tyler wearing a little cocktail waitress costume the whole night. As though that should explain everything.

I want to ask him for more details but his zipper is drooping and I can tell he’d rather not do any more talking at the moment.  So I’ll let it go for now.

* * *

 

**Trouser Log, Day 55**

The Doctor made the unpleasantness of the past few days up to all of us by taking us to a pleasure planet in the Garzellia Galaxy. It was such good fun!  All those rides and carnival games and whatnot.  

I thought I’d die, though, when the Doctor held up a bow tie he’d gotten from god only knows where and held it up to his neck as if deciding whether to purchase it.  Fortunately, I didn’t get a chance to determine if the Doctor was seriously considering adding it to his wardrobe before Rose broke out into hysterical laughter.  

“You’d look so daft in that!” she said, still laughing. The Doctor sort of frowned for a moment at her mockery, but then he laughed too, putting the wretched bow tie down on a display table without a backwards glance.

I’m telling you right now:  if I had lips I would KISS that woman.  Thank god she has such influence over the Doctor.  I mean – a _bow tie_?  Can you imagine?


	3. It ends.

Trouser Log, Day 85

Well, things have certainly gone from bad to worse.  And quite frankly I’m at my zipper’s end about what to do.

Ever since we left that horrible Krop Tor the Doctor and Rose have been inseparable.  Absolutely inseparable.  They snuggle together at mealtimes, her hand resting on his knee.  She sits in his lap whenever he’s not piloting the TARDIS, his chin resting on top of her head.

They’ve even taken to spending the night together, for Rassilon’s sake, in his bed or hers, every single night, their arms and legs all intertwined as she sleeps and he gently strokes her hair.

All of this has made my life a living hell.

Because one thing that has  _not_  changed is what happens to me -- his loyal, steadfast, loving trousers! -- whenever the Doctor is physically close to Rose like this.  He hasn’t changed one single thing about his pants situation (ahem, if you know what I mean) since all of this started happening.  Nor his belt situation. He doesn’t take me off at mealtimes when her hand is creeping up his thigh, and he doesn’t take me off when he’s holding her at night.  

He doesn’t take me off ever, really.  

All of which means things are unbearably tight for me, up in front, right below his belt, approximately twenty-two hours out of every twenty-four.

Something’s got to give.  And I mean that quite literally.  I wish I had the sort of telepathic connection with the TARDIS that the Doctor does because I’d ask her to have me taken out a bit in the front.  By ten inches or so, at least.

I can’t live like this anymore, I tell you.  I just can’t.  The bloody leather jacket can have him back for all I care.

* * *

 

Trouser Log, Day 102

Heh.

Believe it or not, I’m writing this to you from the floor of Rose Tyler’s bedroom, all tangled up with the Doctor’s pants, Rose’s knickers, her brassiere, and god only knows what else.

But before I get into the indignity of my current situation I should probably back up and explain how I got here.

Although.

Well...

Actually, to be honest I don’t quite fully understand how I did get here.

There were Cybermen today.  And Daleks, too.  That part I do know.  We were at a place called Canary Wharf, and people from that parallel world we once visited were there too.  (Rose’s father. Mickey. And a lot of other people I didn’t recognize.)

The Doctor gave a rather timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly explanation as to why the Cybermen and Daleks were there and what was going to have to happen to send, and the Daleks, away for good.  I didn’t understand a single word of it (I rarely do when his gob goes running like that).   But the people there seemed to follow along well enough.  

And in the end, the people from the parallel universe went back home while the Doctor and Rose Tyler strapped themselves to these gigantic levers and opened up a hole in time and space.

The hole they ripped open sucked the Cybermen, the Daleks, and all office furniture that wasn’t nailed down out into something the Doctor called the Void.  Had he not attached Rose so securely to her lever with a long stretchy length of rope I daresay she would have gotten sucked out too, given that her hands slipped from their position close to the end.

But he did attach her to the lever, thank the heavens.  And the Cybermen and Daleks were sucked out into the Void.  And the good guys won.

All of that happened less than thirty minutes ago.  Twenty-nine minutes and thirty seconds ago the Doctor and Rose ran from the building holding hands and laughing like maniacs.  They found a cab thirty seconds after  _that_ , and then without any warning to me whatsoever his hands were suddenly inside her clothes and all over her body.

Things got uncomfortable for me  _down there_ immediately thereafter. And now here I am.

I’m not certain how long I’ll be down here, to be honest.  The Doctor and Rose are making one hell of a racket on her bed right now and neither of them seem too interested in us down here on the floor.  Rose’s knickers keep snickering about it all.  (Heh. They’re  _snickering knickers!_ I better remember that one; that’s rather clever).  It doesn’t seem as though they’re too fussed about the situation.

Rose’s knickers are probably right, honestly.  I suppose it really doesn’t matter where I sleep tonight.  Either way, it’s certainly a much more comfortable situation than most of what I’ve had to endure since the Doctor’s been in this new body.  

Here’s hoping that whatever’s currently going on between the Doctor and Rose is just the beginning of better times ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading -- and for putting up with me. ;)


End file.
